Sickness Unto Death

Sickness Unto Death

Philip Amerson                                              May 1, 2025

Hope, when joined with mutual respect, becomes the oxygen supply for the lungs of a healthy democracy. In these troubled times, 19th Century Danish Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard offers perspective, a challenge, and a way beyond suffocating despair. In his classic “Sickness Unto Death,” this Christian theologian speaks of despair as a sin. Despair is, he suggests, a sin even worse than death. The reader is counseled to find the small pathways ahead, to persist, even when tempted to be captured in the clutches of fear and doubt – even when tempted to be held hostage to despair.  While anxiety may be unavoidable; Kierkegaard argues life calls us to continue forward, step by step, with whatever small light available.

Fear and disrespect are endemic in our nation. There is a tariff on HOPE. Many national and state officials are intent on destroying our “Commons” – the institutional trust established over the past two centuries. They act in ways to paralyze, to control, to tie us in contemporary knots of despair. Normality, civility, and decency are submerged in autocratic surges washing across our society.

This deluge is intended to overwhelm, to control, to undermine.  Such a “flooding the zone” strategy comes ceaselessly at us and from many tributaries: threats to the funding and governance of our universities: ending humanitarian aid to the poorest in our world; closing of scientific research necessary for public health; attacks on the judiciary and law firms; the deconstruction of a free and independent press; pressures on elected officials that leave one U.S. Senator saying “we are all afraid”; and, at base, there is the undoing of the personal constitutional rights for ordinary citizens and anxious refugees. These all coincide with what can be identified as practiced strategies from an autocratic playbook, one that has been tested and proven effective in other nations.

Alongside this national deluge of intolerance, the Indiana Legislature ended its recent session passing bills that can only be understood as a war on health care, on public education and on the poor. Indiana Senate Bill 289 was adopted as an “anti-DEI measure.” Touted as “bringing balance” to the teaching of history, civics and the social sciences, it instead is designed to censor, punish, place a chilling effect over public school districts or university curricula. It is a threat to any who dare depart from the ‘official truth’ presumed by those in power. It is an effort deny the tragic realities of racial, economic, religious, and sexual discrimination in our past and to end discussion of systemic economic disparities that continue.  Limits to funding Medicaid and public health resources will have devastating consequences on the poor in the state, delaying and denying needed care.

Persons without shelter in Indiana can now be placed in jail and/or face a $500 fine for “camping on the streets”! To add insult to injury, the final draft of the state’s budget contained a Trojan Horse, with the insertion, without public input, calling for “productivity reviews” of university faculty. It also included dramatically altered board governance structures for Indiana University giving the governor power to select all the university board members.

Apart from such legislation, other efforts to upend the truth and distort reality are astonishing. Indiana Lieutenant Governor, Micah Beckwith, posted a recent video celebrating what he misleadingly calls a “great compromise” made at the 1787 Constitutional Convention. Beckwith asserts the decision to count persons held as slaves as 3/5ths human (as property) was “a great move forward that led to the abolishment of slavery.” He turns history on its head, ignores the resulting decades of abuse, lynchings, and systemic discrimination. He quite literally whitewashes the dehumanization of slavery, the segregation that followed with Jim Crowe laws, mortgage redlining and the enduring systemic discrimination. Beckwith attempts to tell us that “what is up is down and what is true is false.” He ignores the tragic reality of more than a million men killed or severely wounded in the bloody U. S. Civil War and undercuts the Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments to the constitution passed to assure the rights for all and designed to undergird equality. 

A good friend recently said, “For the first time in my adult life, I am embarrassed to be a Hoosier and related to Indiana University.”  Referring to the deluge of discriminatory initiatives taken by the governor and state legislature, he was also noting, with sadness, a compliant university administration, that has over and again failed to support academic freedom or stand against the bigotry of supercharged bullies. My friend spoke his sadness over the growing and blatant displays of racism and intolerance. Even so, despite such recent efforts, my friend said he was not giving up or dropping out.

Yes, these are unsettling times. The drift – make that the flood – toward intolerance, deception, and fascism is upon us.  We dare not hide or take cover in some false cocoon of isolation, thinking we can somehow choose to avoid the sin of despair.

During the recent Little 500 Weekend in Bloomington horrible, racist posts were placed on social media. They spoke of “the smell of welfare” and “turning Bloomington’s Kirkwood Avenue into Atlanta.”  There was more racist language, much worse than this, designed to encourage bigotry and foster white nationalism. These days such social media posts are likely generated by bots, foreign and domestic. They are designed to inflame passions and make false claims about marginalized others and are intentionally framed to spread fear and do harm.

Those of us who have the privileges accompanying “safe” racial identities, or our education, or other accidents of history dare not give in to despair.  As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put it “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” King was not simply suggesting all our histories and futures are connected and interdependent; he is also saying the struggles for civil rights for everyone must not end.  There continues to be work that needs to be done and injustices to be addressed.

Kirkegaard’s insights 175 years ago still ring true: despair that immobilizes is worse than death. Anxiety is a human given, but despair is a sin. Eleanor Roosevelt proposed “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Social scientists W. I. and Dorothy Thomas offered that “What we perceive to be real becomes real in its consequences.”  How then shall we act?

Kirkegaard’s “Instead of Death” is based on the story of Lazarus as told in the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John. On hearing the news of Lazarus’ passing, Jesus responds, “This sickness will not end in death.” Those captured in despair, will miss the potential for life. We have the power to choose how we react to horrible news, to deadly external influences.  Despair is a loss of perspective, a loss of agency, of self-worth.  It is a loss of hope.

What now are our choices?  What then can we do?  We begin by repudiating the climate of fear.  We can act and not be washed away in the fascist flood.  We can make a difference. 

Here are three areas to explore:

  1. When you see something, say something. An African American friend tells of being disrespected while shopping. In checking out, a clerk used clearly disrespectful and demeaning language. To my friend’s surprise, another customer, nearby, overhearing the exchange, gently but firmly in a quiet and clear voice said, “We are all better than this.”  Later, in the parking lot, the surprising voice offered support and friendship. We can welcome difference.  Maybe it is as simple as responding to a frown with a smile. A phone call, a visit that may help another. We can thank others for what they do. Ask how you might help. Encourage a teacher, a coach, a nurse, a therapist. Express appreciation to those who serve as police officers, fire fighters, local government officials.  Support public radio and television now are under attack.
  2. Reach out, make a new friend, and/or make a difference somewhere. Loneliness and fear are often the source of distrust and misunderstanding. This is a time to find ways to support the good work of programs like Exodus Immigration Refugee, NAACP, the Human Rights Commission. Host a dinner or picnic where persons from diverse backgrounds are welcomed and introduced. Perhaps make a new friend and together support our public schools in new ways, perhaps as a tutor or in support of a teacher. In Bloomington there are ways to support the healthcare for those with few resources through groups like HealthNet or by offering gratitude to our After-Hours Ambassadors working with the Community and Family Resource Department. We can write the university president asking why her administration does not better respond to attacks on academic freedom or to racist tweets that damage the sense of wellbeing among our students and other residents.  Ask the president why the university doesn’t join in efforts provide more for low-income housing, while it is the university driving up enrollments contributes to housing shortage and expense? Ask your banker, pastor, corporate leader how they might contribute to a more diverse racially community?  For some of us, who have the opportunity and occasion, we need to encourage broad representation from marginalized populations on boards and as candidates for leadership positions.
  3. Do one thing daily to challenge bigotry and discrimination.  Yes, I am going to say it – call or write your congressional or state representative challenging them to act against the flood of disinformation and intimidation. This is basic.  Write a letter to the editor.  Some days it may be as simple as being a friend to someone you know or a stranger you meet.

No need to be a crusader – some have that calling.  Others of us can do just one thing a day. Every day we can chose action and not fall into the sin of despair.

The Ugliest Four Letter Word

The Ugliest of All the Four Letter Words?

News came of the death of my dear friend Bill Pannell, evangelist, retired professor at Fuller Seminary. Our nation and the church have lost a great leader, a remarkable person. His clarity, his witness, helped hundreds-of-thousands of Christians follow the path of Jesus of Nazareth.

So many memories: I last spoke with Bill in the spring. We recalled a worship service at Goshen College Mennonite Church several years ago. Bill preached. The sermon was on “the ugliest four-letter word of them all. ” That word? “THEM.” Turning others into an enemy — separating one another from God’s purposes. “THEM.” This, Bill preached, was the ugliest of all words in the English language.

Bill offered another way, the Jesus way. He spoke of a nonviolent welcoming of the stranger. He called for an inviting all to our tables of conversation and care. Bill was not naive. He knew deeply and personally the pain of exclusion and bigotry. Even so, he understood that hate, revenge and retribution were only a road to human tragedy. Turning others into “them” contridictied the core of the Christian message.

His books “My Friend the Enemy” and “The Coming Race Wars” call for a discipleship that includes ALL. Today, Jemar Tisby carries on much of Bill’s witness.

Forgive me this prideful note, but I still remember that as Bill stood to preach in Goshen College Church that Sunday, he looked out and said, “Phil, is that you?” I was stunned. There were several hundred others there. It had been several years since we had last spoken. I nodded “yes.” He then said, “How good to fellowship with one another!” Neither of us were Mennonites; although we loved their faithful witness. I didn’t know Bill was going to be the preacher that morning. Elaine and I went to hear the glorious harmonies of Mennonite hymn singing. Bill, understood and expresed a note of the gift of the Anabaptist witness — “How good it is to be in fellowship with all.”

Today, I give thanks for the witness of William Pannell — Our nation needs his wisdom and faithful word today, perhaps more than ever. Jim Wallis captures this in his recent article about our mutural friend, Bill Pannell:

https://religionnews.com/2024/10/18/the-gospel-according-to-bill-pannell/?utm_source=RNS+Updates&utm_campaign=e19d65e382-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2024_10_20_06_10&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_c5356cb657-e19d65e382-%5BLIST_EMAIL_ID%5D

Jesus Wrapped in a Flag

Jesus Wrapped in a Flag

So-called Christian Nationalism appears to have mushroomed in our body politic. Books like Taking Back America for God (Andrew Whitehead and Samuel Perry) and The Kingdom, The Power and The Glory (Tim Alberta) document the spread and extent of this ideology across American faith communities. Is this new? Or is it reappearing after years buried in the subsoils of our common life?

Do your recall the l-o-n-g word Antidisestablishmentarianism? In elementary school I learned it was the longest word in the English language. Well, not quite. At only 28 letters, it now is said to be the fourth longest. I won’t try to spell or pronounce the top three. The folks at Merriam-Webster say it doesn’t qualify for a dictionary; it is so little used. Okay – but I have burned too many brain cells learning to spell it. Antidisestablishmentarianism arises from historic struggles in Britain over the role of religion in government. This word argues religion (the Church of England in this case) should receive special government benefits, support, patronage.

Increasingly unmerited claims that the United States was to be an exclusive Christian Nation are made. Stephen Wolfe’s book The Case for Christian Nationalism, widely read and oft cited, is a core effort in this “restorationist” project. This desire to return a simplistic narrative about our nation’s founding, our diverse communities of faith, and multiple cultural expressions is misleading, even antithetical to what Jefferson referred to as our “Great Experiment.” In fact, the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution (known as the Establishment clause) opens with the words, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Something fresh, never seen before, was being birthed with the American experiment. Something untethered to a monarch, or a single faith tradition was begun.

Evangelical scholar Kevin DeYoung acknowledges an understandable hunger among some Christians for something like Christian Nationalism; however, after reviewing Wolfe’s book, he concludes “Biblical instincts are better than nationalist ones, and the ethos of the Christian Nationalism project fails the biblical smell test.”

DeYoung offers a clear window on the rootage of Wolfe’s narrowly drawn and grievance informed “research” as he writes “The message—that ethnicities shouldn’t mix, that heretics can be killed, that violent revolution is already justified, and that what our nation needs is a charismatic Caesar-like leader to raise our consciousness and galvanize the will of the people—may bear resemblance to certain blood-and-soil nationalisms of the 19th and 20th centuries, but it’s not a nationalism that honors and represents the name of Christ.” He concludes“Christian Nationalism isn’t the answer the church or our nation needs.” (DeYoung, Kevin, “The Rise of Right-Wing Wokeism”, Christian Living, Nov. 28,2022)

As a teenager, in the early 1960s, I recall sermons warning if John Kennedy were elected, our first Roman Catholic President, he would receive orders directly from the Pope and the Vatican. Fortunately, a majority of U.S. voters didn’t buy that argument. Today, the benefits of Kennedy’s presidency and the tragedy of his assassination continues to shape and haunt our national self-understanding.

In my early adulthood (late 1960s and early 1970s), I heard the black evangelist Tom Skinner preach. He said “All the pictures of Christ were pictures of an Anglo-Saxon, middle-class, Protestant Republican. There is no way that I can relate to that kind of Christ.” (See Jamar Tisby, Footnotes, October 24, 2023.). Skinner painted the image of a white Jesus wrapped in an American flag. He was saying “the Jesus long marketed by the American church wasn’t a faithful representation of the Jesus of the Gospels.” Teaching in a United Methodist school in the Republic of Panama in these years further sharpened my awareness. Skinner was right.

Today’s Christian Nationalism continues to market a fraudulent version of the Christ. It is often linked to the “great replacement” theory that rests on the notion that immigrants and nonwhite, nonChristian persons (especially “Jewish elites”), are engaged in an international plot to take power away from those with birthright privilege in the United States. Do you remember the torchlight parade and the chant “Jews will not replace us” in Charlottesville, Virginia in 2017? Such entitlement beliefs are not only profoundly racist and antisemitic, but they are also neither faithful to U.S. history nor the Christian message.

Whether as Christians or patriotic Americans, or both, how shall we respond?

My friend, Lovett H. Weems, has outlined seven strategies “for responding to Christian Nationalism in measured and faithful ways.” (Leading Amidst Christian Nationalism, LEADING IDEAS, Lewis Center for Church Leadership, June 25, 2024).  Weems offers a helpful overview especially reflecting on the church’s historic endorsement of a civil religion. He is clear about the dangerous ties to the racist agenda of many that Christian Nationalism brings. The strategies offered start with “Be Cautious” and conclude with advice to “Understand the broader social, historical and political landscape.” In between are calls to love of country, to be humble, to stay positive and focused, and to remind others that Christians are called to give witness. These are more a starting point than a guide.

Missed is an awareness of the multiple and diverse contexts and callings of Christian congregations. Few people understand this more than Weems. In many places a more robust response is appropriate. The cautious tone of these “strategies” reflects the tendency of many denominational leaders in recent years to avoid conflict. It reminds one of the crouching stances that have marked too many “leaders” in handling the recent divisions in United Methodism. Perhaps it is, as Weems admits, a “soft civil religion,” but it can none-the-less be misunderstood as a draping of the American flag across the shoulders of the cautious contemporary U.S. church. I suspect the author knows the suggestions offered focus more on what should be avoided and miss some options of what Can Be Done to faithfully respond to Christian Nationalism.

In future days I will offer what I believe may be more effectual responses. I close remembering the words of British Methodist leader Donald English when he said, “The world has enough salesmen of the Gospel.  What we need is more free samples.

America’s UnCivil Wars

Republican Presidential Candidate Nikki Haley, campaigning in New Hampshire at the end of 2023, was asked a simple question “What caused the U.S. Civil War?” Haley’s response was word-salad. It was mumbo-jumbo talk about differing theories of governance. We hear you loudly and clearly Nikki Haley. One hundred and fifty-eight years after the end of the U.S. Civil War, she was unable to give the clear one-word answer to the question.  It was SLAVERY.

If anyone believes racism isn’t deeply embedded in our national psyche, our politics and civic discourse these more than fifteen decades later, they are either ignorant of history and/or unwilling to confess a sin that continues to erode our best future. There is considerable irony, of course, that the question was asked in New Hampshire.  New Hampshire is a state from which thousands of brave young men gave their lives to end slavery.

The answer Nikki Haley gives – or fails to give – underlines our need for national confession of sin, repentance, and reconciliation. It exemplifies our continuing Un-Civil Wars. If the Confederacy had prevailed in 1865, would someone like Haley be able to hold political office today?  One wonders. Yes, there are several auxiliary causal factors to U.S. Civil War; however, why avoid the basic truth?  It was, and is, wrong for human beings to be treated as property to be held and sold? This was the crux of the war — the evils of racism as evidenced in slavery.

On April 9th, 1865, General Robert E. Lee and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse, Virginia. Five days later President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in Washington, D.C. A surface telling of the history misses that thousands of troops continued fighting after April 9th and April 14th

It also misses the continuing Un-Civil Wars across these past fifteen decades (Reconstruction, Lynchings, Jim Crow Laws, Segregation, Red-lining in housing, Unequal school funding and dozens of other discriminatory acts). The UnCivil Wars continue today as is evidenced clearly in voter suppression efforts and racial gerrymandering. Racist impulses and ideologies continue to shape our political conversation and actions, national values, and self-understandings. If one believes otherwise, please explain why Haley’s answer could not have included one simple word?

The Transformed NonConformist (#4)

The Transformed NonConformist

In November 1954, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached his inaugural sermon at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama. In retrospect, it was his future ministry’s thesis statement[i].  His text?  Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect” (NRSV). The sermon was titled “The Transformed Nonconformist.” He was proposing that Christians sometimes needed to act in ways that didn’t always “go along to get along.” Civil, nonviolent nonconformity, was a preferred option when democratic institutions failed, and discrimination continued unabated.[ii]

There were scores of other faith leaders, expressing such a witness, prior to and alongside of, Dr. King.  The church had a rich history of persons acting as Transformed Nonconformists.[iii]  Urban Training Centers were active across the nation in the mid-1960s, most notably in Chicago, Detroit, and Cleveland. There were many models unfolding ranging from the East Harlem Protestant Parish in New York to Church of the Savior in Washington D.C., to Operation Push in Chicago. In Boston, Cleveland, Nashville, Atlanta, and Los Angeles such efforts were institutionalized and often funded by mainline denominations.  In the rural south there was the witness of the Koinonia Farm in Georgia and Voice of Calvary in Mississippi.[iv]

In Indiana the Rev. Luther Hicks in Indianapolis founded Dignity Unlimited. Hicks, a pastor, also set up work with youth in a storefront outreach effort near Shortridge High School at 34th and Meridian. Hicks was arrested on several occasions for leading nonviolent protests over racial injustices. Urban legend has it that the “Methodist” bishop would call the “Methodist” mayor to intervene.  Hicks’ crime?  Seeking to de-escalate possible violence and “promoting patience and reason.”[v]

In earlier decades, Gary (Indiana) Central Methodist Church championed racial justice efforts as the Reverend S. Walton Cole encouraged members to confront their own prejudices, welcome new members from diverse backgrounds and march in demonstrations for equal pay and education. At Trinity Church in Muncie, Indiana, Rev. J. C. Williams’ activities in Civil Rights struggles lead to his candidacy for Mayor of Muncie as “Poor People’s Party Candidate”[vi]

Back to Evansville, and to the topic the closing of desegregation and the closing of inner-city schools, the counsel “You cannot fight city hall” was heard, and it was reframed to a need the importance of speaking directly to school administrators.[vii]  In the process, changes did come.  Culver School was not closed, and a new building was constructed. Elaine Amerson was elected to the county-wide school board where she served for eight years, three of them as board president. Resources that had been heavily directed to suburban schools were shared more equally across the school system. And, yes, county-wide busing did occur, while at the same time several “naturally racially integrated” schools continued to serve a neighborhood.

Despite the range of these efforts, little research, or documentation of the import of such faith-initiated efforts at transformation has been produced. Dr. King’s legacy endures. It has been revived by persons like the Rev. William Barber II. Taking a longer view, while significant advances have occurred, perhaps a deeper and wider story has gone untold.[viii]  There has been little reporting on the breadth of the many faith-based activities.[ix]  

Denominations have turned inward. The slow and critical work of building up neighborhood parishes appears pushed to the sidelines. Examples of genuinely interracial and multicultural congregational life are little-known or valued only at the margins in Mainline Christianity. The death of Dr. King in 1968 dealt a severe blow to the call made to the church in his “Letter from Birmingham Jail.”  The time of Non-conforming Transformationalism abated but it has not disappeared.

In the wider culture, since Dr. King’s death, change has come fast and hard, resulting in questions as to the relevance of the church and much handwringing among church leaders. A decline in attendance began in the late 1960s. Baby Boomers emerged as a new and different demographic. At colleges and congregations on university campuses interest in church attendance declined dramatically at the end of the 1960s. Many campus pastors and priests point to 1967, or thereabouts, as a critical juncture when students who had once filled the pews began to disappear in large numbers from worship. Meanwhile, in urban neighborhoods, those expanded church facilities that had been built in the decades following WWII for all the children, were emptying out.

The Vietnam War, the birth control pill, and the weak response by churches to support the civil rights exposed how insular, self-absorbed, and out of touch religious institutions were in the culture.  Going along and Getting Along had taken a toll. We were said to be entering “a post-denominational era.” The call of Dr. King and the work of scores of faith-based initiatives designed to engage the church in seeking transformation in society was seen more as an artifact than a calling. 

For denominations these realities accelerated the anxious casting about for ways to find or retain relevance. There was a willingness to try many things to stop the growing loss of membership. Ironically, efforts to value and benefit by affirming a core denominational identity and neighborhood parish locations was typically missed or overlooked. The megachurch movement was off and running.  It has served as a central hoped-for-solution among denominational bodies.[x]  Now, in hindsight, it appears exclusive focus on a megachurch model was destined to be insufficient to the changes that continue.

Less attention was given to taking seriously the need for in-depth lay theological education.  Popular narrow cultural ideologies, “seeker-friendly” worship that avoided symbols of sacrifice like a cross, along with contemporary music, mixed with safe political perspectives were the tail that wagged the theological dogs of this era.  As church historian Martin E. Marty put it: “To give the whole store away to match what this year’s market says the unchurched want is to have the people who know least about the faith determine most about its expression.”[xi]

Especially notable, in the 1980s through the 2010s, were the more agile, drive in, folk-based religious mega-church expressions.  Willow Creek Community Church in the Chicago suburbs or Mars Hill Bible Church in Michigan are often-cited examples. These “independent community church” expressions are now in second or third generations of leadership and appear to be going through their own identity crises — and decline. The recent exclusion of Saddle Back Church from the Southern Baptist Convention is worth considering as persons consider what the future of the megachurch will be. 

The story of the megachurch in United Methodism is more complex.  At places like the Church of the Resurrection in Kansas, St. Andrew UMC in Colorado, or Ginghamsburg UMC in Ohio, there have been deliberate efforts to encourage thoughtful theological discourse and support for nearby neighborhood parishes. Typically, however, these types of megachurch congregations are the exceptions among the large church expressions.

Anxiety was the driver. There was a widely held belief, a self-fulfilling prophecy in fact, that we had entered a post-denominational era.  This anxiety was a symptom of what might be diagnosed as“Church Growth fever.” Such fear-based views and flight to “safe places” continues. There have been few efforts to stop to consider what gifts may already be present in smaller and more local parish settings. Megachurch models were advocated that were too often independent from a denomination’s core identity.[xii]

The response over the past four decades has only reinforced the self-focus and self-concern in many settings. Denominations and philanthropic entities focused attention on leadership training and congregational development. These efforts, while not bad in and of themselves, turn attention toward inwardly directed programs. They also, inadvertently perhaps, set up a system where pastoral performance is measured against the “successes” of the booming megachurch in the suburbs.  Looking inward, it was the pastor or the congregation that needed to change to be “more valued.”  One might say the time of Non-transformational Conformity had arrived.

Sadly, in many places, the value of neighborhood congregations was lost; the importance churches as a local center of informal gathering and values-production among residents living nearby was sacrificed. Starbucks, neighborhood eateries and bars now filled the civic void left behind in urban neighborhoods.

BUT WAIT, THERE IS MORE! 

In many urban neighborhoods, congregations have survived, even prospered. They have persisted despite often being undervalued and overlooked.[xiii]  While thousands of neighborhood congregations have disappeared, thousands of others are being transformed. Not all continue as worshipping communities only, or primarily. It is often not the church as known it in the past. Some places are more traditional but in almost all, there is a willingness to be Nonconforming Transformationalists.

There is a remarkable phenomenon, for example, of church buildings being transformed into low-income residences.[xiv] In other places congregations are building tiny houses on church property and are forming communities of care where church members build fellowship with persons finding health and spiritual care for chronic difficulties. There are at the same time new models of faith life bubbling up that don’t require a building, as in coffee shop Bible studies and parenting fellowship groups. There are new forms of believers assembling to “be transformed together” working on immigration reform or providing shelter or health care for low wealth persons that have begun and are beginning.  These are signs of hope and joy and celebration. They are places where diversity is celebrated, where multicultural expressions are honored, and where everyone, no matter race or sexual preference, is welcome.

COMING NEXT: Parish-based Renewal and Seeing Christ in the Neighbor and Neighborhood.


[i] McCullough, Marcus, “Go Along to Get Along,” The Graduate Journal of Harvard Divinity School, 2023.

[ii] Passages from Romans chapters 12-15 have been cited to undergird both conformity and nonconformity with government practices across the centuries. In Romans 13:1ff, Paul seems to argue that Christians should simply submit to civil authority. However, King and others suggested Romans 12 set the terms for any such submission. When faced with evil institutions, conformity is predicated on the ever continuing the call for transformation? Discrimination, Jim Crow laws, lynching, unequal economic, societal, employment and education systems could and should be transformed.

[iii] Too often forgotten or overlooked were the many others who were part of Urban Training Centers shaping urban ministry around the country.  Gibson Winter’s book The Suburban Captivity of the Churches helped set the stage as did his work with the Urban Training Center in Chicago. There were the folks like Clarence and Florence Jordan at Koinonia Farm and Gordon and Mary Cosby at Church of the Savior in Washington D.C.  There was the ministry of Father Jack Egan for the Chicago Catholic Diocese and Vincent Harding with the Mennonite communities in Chicago and Atlanta. Folks like Don Benedict, Archie Hargraves, Bill Webber, and Letty Russell at the East Harlem Protestant Parish New York.

[iv] I mention these few, of many, because much of this history has been overlooked.  Dr. King’s work, and that of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, was essential to the changes brought about by the civil rights struggle. At the same time there were dozens of localized ways people of faith were engaged in taking their faith to the streets.

[v] https://www.connerprairie.org/black-history-month/

[vi] https://digital.library.in.gov/Record/BSU_othermiddle-105

[vii] We heard my supervisor’s admonition that one “can’t fight city hall” as a call “not to turn city leaders into the enemy.”  This led to many lunches with school administrators and city officials.  Some of the best allies in seeking more equity in public education came from teachers and administrators within the school system. 

[viii] Examples come in many dimensions: In housing (Habitat for Humanity grew out of the witness of Koinonia Farm with Millard Fuller and Clarence Jordan in Georgia), with economic structures (e.g., Rev. Faith Fowler at Cass Community in Detroit provides a model, as does John Perkins with Christian Community Development Associations, or incubator businesses out of several congregations), and resources linking spirituality and social action continue (e.g., Fr. Richard Rohr’s at the Center for Action and Contemplation and Rev. Jim Wallis’ leadership at the Sojourners in Washington, D.C.).

[ix] Research waits to be done. In the early 1970s, for example, Project Understanding looked at the efficacy of programs designed to bring racial change through religious congregations – little has followed.

[x] Dr. Scott Thuma at Hartford Seminary has done considerable research on the rise (and decline) of the megachurch phenomena. See: mhttp://hirr.hartsem.edu/megachurch/research.html.

[xi] Marty, Martin E., Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/7201126-to-give-the-whole-store-away-to-match-what-this.

[xii] It is not surprising that many of the same folks who pushed a singular focus on tinkering with the patterns of congregational life warned we were entering “a post-denominational era.” From “Keys to Growth” and the “Habits of Successful Congregations” the remedies proposed included more parking, new member campaigns, management by objectives, leadership training, changing music or moving the location of the congregation to a “better place.”  Long established denominational connections or linkages with other institutions in a community were not highlighted. Mostly, the unspoken assumption was that larger congregations of like-minded people were the answer.  Seldom was there a focus on the parish surrounding the church – and when there was such a focus, the parish was seen as a place of scarcity, even danger. A place needing outside help rather than a resource for congregational vitality.

[xiii] Some researchers speak of these examples of heath where there is perceived poverty and decline as “positive deviance.”  I choose to see it as the work of the Holy Spirit.

[xiv] A remarkable initiative is being carried out by the United Methodist Foundation in the New England Annual Conference where “redundant” church buildings are being evaluated as places for potential residences or for new ministry/mission sites.

Going Along and Getting Along #3

Going Along and Getting Along

You can’t fight city hall.” my friend said. After I shared efforts to keep several inner-city schools open, he gave this response.  My children attended one school on the docket to be closed – Culver Elementary, in Evansville, Indiana. It was the late 1970s. The Federal Court desegregation orders were being enforced.  School busing was underway across the nation. In places like South Boston, there was angry, even violent, resistance.  In Evansville folks were uneasy.  My friend was also my supervisor.[i]  His counsel was appreciated, well-intentioned. In fact, it was considered “progressive” as a support for desegregation efforts.

Public schools in the city were to “adjust” and “comply.” Our children’s school was naturally racially integrated. Along with others, all children could walk to school from home.  No school bus needed, thank you. There was a natural racial mix. School desegregation orders, although imperfect, were a response to the prevailing patterns of separation and providing unequal resources based on race. The evil of systemic racism has plagued our nation from its founding, shaping the ecology of our cities. In the wake of this, white flight left thousands of formerly predominantly white urban congregations struggling to survive.[ii]

How to best respond to the effort to “desegregate” schools in my community?  On the one hand, my children already attended a racially integrated school; on the other, there were deep systemic problems in cities across the land. In many places – no, in most places – the church lived by the notion “you can’t fight city hall.” It might be called a Go Along and Get Along theology.  In earlier posts, I noted the multiplicity of ways congregational life was reshaped, distorted really, by racist activities, after WWII.  Housing, transportation, education, and economics were woven together on a loom shaped by deeply racist social designs.

THAT WAS THEN. Alternative voices were also emerging. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. represented the best known of such an alternative vision.

In upcoming posts we will look at Dr. King’s prescription for change and how mainline denominations responded. We will also suggest some ideas for a more hopefilled furture. Perhaps Christendom as it has existed in recent generations in the United States is passing — and, perhaps, there are ways Christianity will flower in surprising new manifestations.

Next: Dr. M.L. King’s Nonconforming Transformationalism.


[i] Clergy supervisors in the Methodist tradition are known as district superintendents and bishops. My district superintendent was a good man and the urban ministry work we were doing at Patchwork Ministries in Evansville was made possible through his connectional support.  This support was not primarily money; mostly it was permission for a group of young idealistic pastors to attempt something different in terms of urban ministry.

[ii] Tragically the current US Supreme Court is attacking legislation intended to secure voting rights, affirmative action and equal justice that accompanied these desegregation efforts.

Evaporating Parish and Racism (Part 2-B)

Philip Amerson, May 2023

The Ecology of Racial Discrimination

I was afraid I might be shot walking from my car into the building.”  These were the words of a friend, a denominational leader. He was speaking of work while his office was at Central Avenue UMC in the 1990s.

In recent years I assumed there were few surprises left for me after more than fifty years as a pastor in my particular Protestant denomination. I was wrong.

It was a casual conversation, but a stunning one. My friend’s almost off-hand comment opened a new vista into what I had failed to see those three decades earlier. He was speaking of when his office was in the Central Avenue Church years before. Still, the fear lingered in his voice.

I have written about the decline and closing of the Central Avenue in earlier posts. In the mid-1980s, I joined others in proposing some denominational offices be moved to the unsued space at Central Avenue. Our assumption was it would benefit urban ministry across the state. It would signal and solidify a commitment to valuing of city churches. Surely, if denominational offices and mission activities were located in the core-city, it would guarantee more support and an awareness, a commitment, to city ministry.  In an amazing set of circumstances, in that decade, even Governor, Frank O’Bannon, and his wife Judy, United Methodists themselves, chose to live nearby and associate with Central Avenue. They were advocates for urban revitalization.

Still, something was awry. My assumption in hindsight was fool hearty.  There was an insufficiency in vision. Locating offices in that building didn’t have the effect we had hoped. Central Avenue officially closed in 1999. The building needed significant repairs. The worshipping congregation was down to only thirty members.  Ultimately the grand old structure was given over to Indiana Landmarks and extensive refurbishment was carried out.[i]  

What did we fail to understand when it was thought that locating some denominational offices in that place would be a difference maker? Something more basic, more at the core of things, was at play. Offices might be centered in a building, but fear and a lack of a shared vocational clarity as to city ministry overwhelmed the best of intentions.

Earlier I posed the question, why?  Why did so many urban parishes seem to evaporate or vanish over the past half century? Central Avenue is representative. In fact, it had more advantages than many others. The many parishes that vanished faced a tsunami of urban change. Long deferred building maintenance and the costs of repairs played a significant role. It will be argued later that an inadequate sense of theological clarity and sense of connection between the congregation and a shifting neighborhood population was a contributor to this decline. 

Too few neighbors found a home at the church. Few persons were willing to drive from more distant neighborhoods back into the core-city.  There was insufficient interest, skill or insight in re-establishing this as a viable parish. Other factors contributed to this demise (secularization, smaller families, alternative faith communities nearby); even so, I have come to the belief that, at the core, there are two fundamental issues which offer the clearest explanation. These are:

a) the social and political ecology of embedded racism; and

b) Ineffectual denominational and congregational responses lacking in theological clarity. 

A Look at the Embedded Racism in Urban Ecologies

My friend who spoke of being afraid of being shot walking between his office and the car was not someone who would fit the label of a racist. Over his career he spoke against racial discrimination. Yet, the fear he experienced belied something deeper, something far more problematic.

Racism is about more than individual attitudes or behaviors.  It is embedded in perceptions and expectations. Even more, it is interwoven in the political and economic systems in which we all participate. After speaking of “being afraid of being shot” he went on to say, “I couldn’t invite persons to come to the building for meetings, especially in the evenings, out of concern for their safety.  On more than one occasion I heard gunshots near the building.”

As these words were spoken, I thought of the dozen or so United Methodist congregations nearby, several within a couple of miles. I thought of the dozens of churches, around the city and in urban neighborhoods across the state, that were in more “dangerous” settings (with higher crime statistics or gang activity).

Fear is a powerful force in shaping what we see and how we behave. Comments like “we must go to where the people are” or “I couldn’t invite people here” are not intended to carry racist freight on the surface – but they are marioneted in a broadly assumed and unspoken racist gestalt.  In truth, in nearby churches congregants gathered in more crime ridden neighborhoods, day-and-night, to carry on their ministries.[ii]

There was a failure to consider a wider array of options than an exit strategy. The resulting reality was a benign neglect of most core-city parishes. The “left behind” congregations were undervalued as to their potential.

There are many factors that underlie WHY neighborhoods changed and parishes slowly vanished. Realities and patterns vary from congregation-to-congregation, city-to-city, and neighborhood-to-neighborhood.  Even so, when one considers the common ingredients surrounding neighborhoods that were abandoned and where parish life was ignored, fear of the other (of the stranger) is always present.

Our nation’s history is that of a restless citizenry, moving from place to place, job to job, home to home.[iii] This mobility is assisted by the capitalistic assumptions that social status and a better life can be purchased by a move to a more respected place.

There is a lengthly list of contributors to transitions in urban neighborhoods like those surrounding Central Avenue Church. This recent research on the dynamic of urbanization singles out racist structures as far and away the critical explanatory and discriminatory component. Racism serves as what social scientists call an “independent variable.”

There are now scores of research reports, mostly from the past decade, that document the extent of racial inequity. It permeated our social and economic ecology. It was manifest in the building of interstate highways,[iv] the decline of newspapers and local media,[v] real estate speculation and housing practices,[vi] shopping malls and big-box retail,[vii] employment,[viii] education,[ix] taxation,[x] law enforcement,[xi] urban development,[xii] and, this all reinforced by patterns of governance and political control in cities.[xiii]

To illustrate, here is a quick review of the first factor above, the building of interstate highway systems. It is clear systemic racism shaped the urban landscape. A pervasive, and decades long, reality can be seen in the destroying and/or dividing neighborhoods based on race. The interstate highway system begun in the mid-1950s, and even earlier the parkways built by planners like New York’s Robert Moses, intentionally divided neighborhoods by race and social class.[xiv] In the process it was nearly always the Black and Brown neighborhoods that were destroyed or “isolated off.”

Today the former Central Avenue church building is only a few yards from I-65 as it loops through the middle sections of the city; and, barely two blocks away is another barrier as I-70 separates off heading east. The now gentrified Near Northside neighborhood is, thus, walled off from other, historically poorer neighborhoods in Indianapolis.[xv]

Robert Bullard in 2004 documented how the Interstate Highway System was blatantly and, in most cases, effectively utilized as a tool of “transportation racism”.[xvi]  Bullard speaks of the power of transportation inequity. Poorer neighborhoods suffered the consequences that included: isolated poverty detached from needed services, environmental hazards, loss of neighborhood centers (including churches), excessive noise and more difficult access to shopping, parks, entertainment, and other amenities. Bullard posits that “transportation planning has duplicated the discrimination used by other racist government institutions and private entities to maintain white privilege”.[xvii]

Thus, by the 1970s, in Indianapolis, the building of interstate highways, the establishment of Unigov (bringing together city and county government), the desegregation of schools and taxation policies were powerful reinforces of an often-covert racism.  It was a racism that was deeply embedded in urban planning activities and in the souls of well-meaning but fearful citizens, even church leaders.  It is little wonder that congregations like Central Avenue were in trouble. It is a story deeply embedded in racial fear. But the story is even more nuanced, more complex. 

If racism was a primary cause, the response to this time of transition and the vanishing of parishes by the denominations was also due to largely ineffectual and misguided practices.  We turn to this in the next posting.  There is more. There are words of hope offered by two other questions beyond the “why?”  In future we will also ask about the “what if?” and “why not?” options before us.


ENDNOTES:

[i] More information on the renovation of Central Avenue and transition to the Centrum by Indiana Landmarks can be found at: https://savingplaces.org/stories/nineteenth-century-church-receives-enlightened-renovation-indiana-landmarks-center

[ii] I was serving as one of the pastors at Broadway United Methodist under two miles north of Central Avenue from 1986 to 1992. Yes, there were gun shots heard and even violent exchanges on that parking lot; however, the lay people, who lived near and far away, and the nearby neighbors were beginning to forge bonds of cooperation and respect.  It was hard won – and was filled with the challenges of mistrust and paternalistic behaviors. 

[iii] Frederick Jackson Turner had hypothesized all the way back in 1893 that the American Spirit was one of always moving into a new frontier.  Turner spoke of the idea of an exceptionalism that sought to “win against the wilderness.”  Mobility came naturally to the settlement and resettlement of our cities.

[iv] Bullard, R. D. (2004). The anatomy of transportation racism. Bullard, R., Johnson, G., & Torres, A. (Eds.). Cambridge, MA: South End Press.

[v] There is a clear and growing research on the decline in civic engagement as related to the decline of a local press.  See for example Madeline Price, “No Longer Black and White and Read All Over: How the Disappearance of America’s Local News Threatens Our Democracy,” Democratic Erosion, February 13, 2022.

[vi] Rothstein, Richard and Leah, Just Action: How to Challenge Segregation Enacted Under the Color of Law, Liveright Publishers, 2023.

[vii] Dunlap, Michelle, Retail Racism: Shopping While Black and Brown in America, Rowman and Littlefield, 2021.  See also: Drost, Philip, “How Malls and Freeways helped segregate America, CBC Radio, June 26, 2022; and, Young, Michael and Peter Willmott, Family and Kinship in East London, The Free Press, 1957.  This remarkable early study of two communities. The decline in civic engagement and community involvement anticipated the losses of parish awareness ahead for places where suburban development was underway. undermining the viability of neighborhood shops and shopping.

[viii] Wilson, Valerie and William Darity Jr., Understanding black-white disparities in labor market outcomes requires models that account for persistent discrimination and unequal bargaining power, Economic Policy Institute, March 25, 2022.

[ix] Ramsey, Sonya, The Troubled History of American Education after the Brown Decision, The American Historian, March 2021.

[x] Davis, Carl and Wiehe, Meg, Taxes and Racial Equity: An Overview of State and Local Policy Impacts, Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy, , March 31, 2021. See: https://itep.org/taxes-and-racial-equity/

[xi] Valentine, Ashish, NPR, July 5, 2020, “The Wrong Complexion for Protection: How Race Shaped Americas Roadways and Cities.  See: https://www.npr.org/2020/07/05/887386869/how-transportation-racism-shaped-america

[xii] Baker-Smith, Christine, Lourdes German, Samantha Pedrosa and Stacy Richardson, Racial Equity and Municipal Bond Markets, National League of Cities. 2022.

[xiii] “Unigov: Unifying Indianapolis and Marion County,” Digital Civil Rights Museum, accessed May 8, 2023, https://www.digitalresearch.bsu.edu/digitalcivilrightsmuseum/items/show/42.In Indianapolis the dramatic shift in governance came with the adoption of Unigov – a merger of multiple city and county agencies. While presented as a way to streamline the work of overlapping government agencies, the Indiana Conference on Human and Civil Rights also served to dilute and weaken the voice and representation of the poor and black citizens of Indianapolis.

[xiv] Karas, David, “Highway to Inequality: The Disparate Impact of the Interstate Highway System on Poor and Minority Communities in American Cities,” New Visions for Public Affairs, Volume 7, April 2015, pp. 9 – 21.  See: https://www.ce.washington.edu/files/pdfs/about/Highway-to-inequity.pdf

[xv] Valentine, Ashish, NPR, July 5, 2020, “The Wrong Complexion for Protection: How Race Shaped Americas Roadways and Cities.  See: https://www.npr.org/2020/07/05/887386869/how-transportation-racism-shaped-america

[xvi] Bullard, Robert, Op. Cit., p. 15.

[xvii] Bullard, Robert Op. Cit. p. 20.

The Evaporating Parish (Part #2-A)

Philip Amerson, May 2023

The Evaporating Parish (Part 2-A)

In June 1979, the Indiana United Methodist Annual Conference met in the I.U. Auditorium. The presiding bishop, Leroy Hodapp,[i] set an agenda for the future “We must go to where the people are!” The subtext was clear, we must go to the suburbs and invest talent, time, and resources there. As pastor in a core-city neighborhood at the time, I leaned to a friend beside me and whispered, “What are the people in our neighborhoods? Chopped liver?

The post-WWII Baby Boom population surge was slowing. A “population shock wave[ii]” or “Agequake”[iii] disrupted assumed church practices. Denominational anxiety about the future was on the upswing. In 1970 Alvin Toffler, with his wife Adelaide, published the popular Future Shock.[iv]  It spoke of the events of these years as “too much change in too short a period of time.

Urban neighborhoods, perceived as dangerous and in inevitable decline, were changing rapidly. Homes were abandoned by families, mostly of European ancestry and sold to real estate speculators. The houses left behind were often subdivided into multiapartment residences. The new arrivals came mostly from non-Caucasian ancestry. Typically, they were families with lower wealth. Dramatic population and neighborhood changes continued, wavelike over the next decades, as residences and local businesses were turned into rental properties. Only a couple of decades later, change came again as younger folks who were given the rather ironic label of “urban pioneers”[v] arrived and refurbished the older houses again into single-family dwellings.

In an earlier post,[vi] I wrote of the demise of the Central Avenue United Methodist Church in Indianapolis. A version of Central Avenue’s story was replicated in thousands of churches in the U. S. during the middle-and-late Twentieth Century. The underpinnings of parish life were vanishing as linkages with surrounding neighborhoods diminished. This pattern, like rolling ocean waves, washed across city neighborhoods. Social connections withered, were then rebuilt, and again diminished, and then reestablished again.

Gentrification was only beginning. White flight had speeded changes.[vii] The none-to-subtle subtext of the bishop’s counsel in 1979 was that primary attention should be directed to those leaving the core-city and refocused on suburban church growth. Ironically, of course, the population density in core-city neighborhoods was growing to levels higher than ever.

The good bishop’s analysis and strategy failed to perceive the ways in which the “left behind” neighborhoods were becoming more global, more multicultural.[viii]  There was also a failure to discern the gifts being brought by the new residents. Even as new Asian, Hispanic enclaves emerged, and African American communities were enlarged, at the same time many of these “re-establishing” neighborhoods became more multiethnic in composition.[ix] 

A listening to, visiting with, and welcoming of the people of the neighborhoods near the church buildings by church leaders was rarely practiced.  The focus was on who was leaving, following “our” people. There was a blindness.  Importantly, and in truth determinatively, the financial base for many city congregations was diminishing as members left for the suburbs. In the Baby Boom years of the middle 1950s and early 1960s, many church buildings were expanded beyond what could be afforded by those left behind or newly arriving in the following decades.

The call to “go to where the people are” failed to consider options other than an exit strategy. Left behind were paternalistic responses welcoming the new arrivals. If there was an outreach to the newcomer, it was typically an effort to “fix” these new in-migrants.  Rather than seeing these persons as resources, with gifts to share, they were thought of as “the needy” and as such, well-meaning ministries like food pantries, thrift shops, and tutoring programs became the primary mission of many inner-city churches. 

As was noted in the previous post, It is one thing to restore buildings and houses, quite another to re-establish (or perhaps rediscover) a parish.[x]  What lessons might we discover from this history? We ask: why? what if? and why not? 

Why did these parishes evaporate or vanish? In the next two postings I will offer what I believe are the two primary reasons for this phenomenon: 1) the social and political ecology of embedded racism in the nation; and 2) Ineffectual denominational and congregational responses to these changes lacking in theological clarity.

Coming Next: 2-B, The Social and Political Ecology of Embedded Racism in the Nation.

Your thoughts? — Please enter these in the comment section.


ENDNOTES:

[i] Bishop Leroy Hodapp was a good and intelligent man and a good friend.  Still, he was a product of the mid-twentieth century church culture that selected him and shaped him for leadership. He would be considered a Christian “progressive” and generally friendly to many urban ministry efforts at the time. However, the pressures of office and desire to balance competing expectations of over 1,100 congregations and 300,000 Hoosier United Methodists limited what he perceived to be the best way forward. There were dozens of urban congregations and pastors that might have helped widen his vision, but the dye was set by the prevailing myths of the inevitability of suburban growth and urban decay.

[ii] Rizvi, Abul, Population Shock, Monash University Publishing, 2022. 

[iii] Wallace, Paul, Agequake: Riding the Demographic Rollercoaster, Shaking Business, Finance and Our World, UNKNO, 1999.

[iv] Toffler, Alvin and Adelaide, Future Shock, Random House, 1970.  Society was said to move through the three stages: agrarian, industrial, and post-industrial and with each transition there was a period of societal disruption and stress.  Toffler’s analysis followed in follow-up books, The Third Wave and Powershift.

[v] Hwang, Jackelyn, Pioneers of Gentrification: Transformation in Global Neighborhoods in Urban America in the Late Twentieth Century, Demography, February 2016, 189-213.

[vi] Amerson, Philip, Recentering the Parish – Part 1, see: https://wp.me/p5lzr1-3Kc.  Upon reading the earlier piece on the decline of Central Avenue church a friend reminded me of other changes including the interstate highway system where Interstate Highways I-64 and I-70 sectored off neighborhoods from one another. He also noted the consolidation many city and county functions in a new structure known as Unigov in Indianapolis. He was right. There are multiple other contributors as noted in this essay and each one seems shaped by racial discrimination.

[vii] Semuels, Alana, White Flight Never Ended, THE ATLANTIC, July 30, 2015.

[viii] Buccitelli, Anthony, Bak, City of Neighborhoods: Memory, Folklore, and Ethnic Place in Boston, University of Wisconsin Press, 2016.

[ix] Hwang, Jackelyn, op cit.

We are the Antidote to Hate

February 25, 2023: a “National Day of Hate.” Astonishing, this headline!

I doubted anyone would be this publicly misguided, this wrong-headed, this evil. Still, the call for public displays of antisemitism, racism and the hate mongering are genuine phenomena. 

A quick online search found law enforcement agencies across the country, from New York to Miami to Seattle, are extending this warning.  A coalition of neo-Nazi and White Supremacists are calling for hate-filled speech and actions on Saturday.  It is not new; it is a more open call for abuse against anyone who differs. Sadly, this is a part of a freshly emerging pattern.

Only two days ago, on Ash Wednesday, Christians were reminded of our common humanity and our need for repentance.  Ashes symbolize a “humas,” central to our identity.  From “dust you have come and to dust you shall return.” All of us; we hold this in common.  We are but temporal and temporary vessels, each carrying the potential for hope and healing or harm and hatred. 

In her book “People Love Dead Jews,” Dara Horn points poignantly to the ways antisemitism is deeply embedded and intertwined in our culture.  Among the haunting illustrations is the story of a Jewish child visiting a Christian church and while there asking the mother, “Where are the security guards?”  It was for this Jewish child normal for any space of worship, like his own synagogue, to always need security guards present.

There has been much news about a spiritual awakening at my alma mater Asbury University. Honestly, I have been fearful that this phenomenon offers a simplistic, pietistic, and personalistic response to the divisions, deceits and challenges we face as a nation. Folks quite rightly say that the impact of this spiritual awakening will not be known for decades. True enough. Still there is a good test to be had on Saturday, February 25th. Will we stand against hatred and turn the so-called National Day of Hate into a Day to Overcome Hatred with Words and Acts of Love of Neighbor. All neighbors!

Avoiding Deep Change: Racism and the Ineffectual Church, Chapter 2

Racism and the Ineffectual Church, Chapter 2

Racism and the Ineffectual Church, Chapter 2

“Preaching leads to changed lives,” I recall one of my seminary homiletics professor’s assertation. Another professor, a diminutive Scot, with a marvelous Scottish brogue (involving the trilling of ‘r’s in his speech), offered instead that “Ser-r-mons are r-r-eminder-rs of where God is al-r-r-eady active in the lives of the people.”

In my experience, sermons typically aren’t life-changing events for the hearer — or the preacher. Like workshops they can be helpful, but not often transformative.  Now, after more than five decades, I have much appreciation for my Scottish professor’s understandings. A sermon may assist others in taking a step along faith’s journey.  I don’t recall anyone greeting me after worship and saying, “that sermon was transformative.” On the other hand, years later a few have said, “You didn’t know it but that word came at a time in my life when I was ready to hear.” Amazingly, years or decades later, some have said, “I remember that sermon back in 19??.  It came at a time when I was seeking another path, another vocation, or a new partner. Thanks.”

Recently, I wrote about well-intentioned but ineffectual Diversity, Equity and Inclusion workshops. Like sermons, such events rarely lead to substantial change in racialism and discrimination. But this is not written as a screed against workshops or sermons. Instead, it is the proposition that when these activities are accompanied by a clear invitation to join with others in witnessing and addressing racial discrimination, remarkable transformation is possible.

So, why this focus on preaching and racism? Well, put simply, addressing racism is about more than words or ideas. Racism is often distilled into the belief that it is only about personal attitudes or prejudice. For Whites — for all people – sermons are effective as they are joined to changes in the ways we live. Parker Palmer suggests “Changed thinking doesn’t lead to changed actions so much as changed actions lead to changes in the ways one thinks.”  Sermons and workshops are insufficient, helpful perhaps, but in isolation they may serve as an inoculation avoiding fundamental change.

Several Open Housing campaigns in the 1960s carried the slogan: Your heart may be in the right place, but are you? As hundreds of thousands were moving to the suburbs avoiding racially integrated schools and neighborhoods, the church was… well, preaching a lot about racial justice.  Meanwhile in only a few cities were churches at the center of racial justice and integration efforts.  In 1961 Gibson Winter, theologian and social scientist, documented this in the book “The Suburban Captivity of the Churches.”

Dr. William Pannell

A cherished friend of mine, Professor William Pannell of Fuller Seminary, is now in his nineties. We met in the late 1960s when as a young seminarian his book “My Friend, the Enemy” spoke powerfully about racism being more than personal prejudice. As friends, he taught me that it was not enough to have a “changed heart.”  I needed to acknowledge the enemy we both faced of white privilege, culture and discrimination. 

Sermons, workshops, and conferences can be mechanisms of avoidance. Bill speaks of the 1966 World Congress on Evangelism. The theme for the 1966 gathering was One Race, One Gospel, One Task.  Evangelical leaders invited more than 1,200 delegates from 100 countries to Berlin for this World Congress on Evangelism (an important precursor to the historic 1974 Lausanne Congress). Pannell speaks of a small group of African American Christians who discover that even though the theme was One Race, One Gospel, One Task, there was a silence about racial injustice.  Imagine this in the middle of the Civil Rights struggles of those years. As Pannell tells it, (see:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkpYIg8tpOI) those concerned about this omission confronted the conference leadership and, as is often the case, they were asked to write a document on racism to be approved by the Congress.  Pannell then reports, these more than fifty years later, that document must be “sitting on a shelf somewhere.”  You see, the passing of a nicely worded document, was not connected to concrete institutional and cultural change.  Or as Pannell would have it, “Vital and Biblical evangelization.”

All around we have the opportunity to join in activities to address racial injustice and do more than attend workshop or preach sermons.  However, those of us who are now, or have been, a part of Mainline Christian leadership need to learn to listen to and support others.  There are some remarkable young persons ready to teach and lead us. Persons who come from different racial experiences.  I will share more in future chapters. Urgently now, look for places where persons are addressing the evil of White Christian Nationalism. Check out the upcoming event: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/how-white-christian-nationalism-threatens-our-democracy-tickets-439763242697#search.  Then do more.  A true addressing of racism involves deep change in the ways our institutions understand, and act differently based on the structural, financial and cultural options pursued.

One of my other heroes was Thomas Broden on the faculty of Notre Dame Law School. Tom joined a team working on an initiative called Project Understanding, back in the early 1970s. It focused on city congregations across the country (Chicago, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Dallas, Indianapolis, Bay Area, South Bend). My work was to carry out research on ways racial attitudes might be changed and how racism in many forms might be addressed.

I recall the day we recommended to Broden that lay persons from many denominations be gathered to study and consider ways to address racial injustice. Tom’s response was “That’s okay as far as it goes.” He had my attention! He went on, “We will want to get them involved in some activity with persons who differ racially and in situations where discrimination can be clearly seen.”  In South Bend, one of the activities he suggested was to have lay people sit in welfare offices and observe the cheating going on there.  I was appalled – Tom laughed – “Oh, he said, cheaters will be found, but few of them will be those seeking assistance!”  He was right, so very right.  Today, in Indiana every welfare office must post “the rights of those who seek assistance.”  That came directly from the work of lay people in Project Understanding.  In Chicago and Dallas, change came from teams who sought to rent an apartment (some teams were White only, some Black only, some mixed racially). After visiting the same apartment and seeking to rent it, the teams would gather and learn about the ways discrimination was seen in the prospect of renting the same apartment. In California, there were engagements with persons seeking immigration or work documents.  Sermons helped, workshops were okay, but the research showed that true and lasting changes in racial attitudes were rooted in real and concrete efforts to address discrimination and unjust institutions.

Or, as my seminary preaching professor would put It, “Serr-r-mons are r-r-eminder-rs of where God is al-r-r-eady active in the lives of the people.”